One Night Stand
by JVal
Summary: Chris and Blaineley got a little drunk one night and…it just happened. Oneshot.


**Hey guys!**

**Chris/Blaineley is absolute love. There's only about one other fanfic around them, which is crap…because they should totally be canon! Don't you agree? **

**They're like…perfect for each other.**

**Chris and Blaineley belong to the Total Drama series, not to me.**

**Enjoy!**

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Blaineley doesn't remember how it happened. But she does remember it happened after she attended the Total Drama World Tour Afterparty-a party to celebrate the third season of the show, held by the producers of the show that included the cast, the crew and the rest of the staff. It was held at a small club in Toronto-there was alcohol, but it was only being served to those of legal age, which excluded all the teenaged cast members. Not Blaineley, though. In her early twenties, she was old enough to have as many drinks as she pleased.

She didn't care either. She wasn't too fond of most of the cast members, bar Owen, who she could only somewhat tolerate, then there was Chef-who she had unexpectedly become friends with, he even helped her during one of her challenges in the game. But of course, what really bothered her about Chef was his friendship with Chris. Oh, Chris.

She really didn't like Chris.

His passive-aggressive behavior, his cynical way of playing the challengers (and her), and of course, his mammoth ego. Mainly because it rivaled hers. She had never met a cockier person than herself until him.

However, right now was party time, and she was going to be dancing with whoever she could find-friends and enemies alike. Her troubles with other cast members (hosts included!) would fade away temporarily for the night. It was only 8 PM, an hour after the party had started where she found herself gloriously sapping up the lights on the dance floor with her fast movements and hip shaking with LeShawna, Bridgette, and some bearded guy from the crew ensemble.

So she would drink up until she was sprawled on the dance floor, busting moves that her body couldn't manage and yet not ever be able to remember happened by the next morning. But it didn't matter to her. She had hit her second raspberry martini, her favorite drink. A tapered glass in one hand, she swayed her body back and forth to the music, laughing at her attempts to balance the glass in one hand while dancing as the alcohol spilled out of onto her wrists and fingers, not caring about anything else at the moment. "Woah, don't get so ahead of yourself with those drinks, Blaineley," Bridgette chuckled in mock-concern. But Blaineley apparently unconcerned swayed her blonde hair off her shoulders and grinned, "I've _always_ been ahead of myself, and look at where I am now!"

She sure loved to party.

* * *

Somewhere in the balcony room of the club during the time was a hysterical, partially-inebriated Chris and his best friend and partner-in-crime, Chef. Chris had one too many drinks, per say, and was slumped against the room's designer sofa, laughing at one of Chef's jokes. "Oh Chef, tell me that one about the girl and the hockey stick again!" he exclaimed, his speech slightly slurred from his consummation of vodka shots earlier.

Chef smiled, smug to know that while he had been drinking, he had not gotten nearly as bad as Chris. "I've been thinking about it, and I honestly believe that's pointless right now."

"Why?"

"Because you're never going to remember it the next morning."

The two broke into howling fits of laughter once more; the scene an ironic reminiscence on their friendship. Usually it was Chef the one misbehaving like a troubled child and Chris the one berating him. But here, the roles were switched, and even then it stayed true to the meat of their bond.

Chris looked over the balcony ledge to the dancers on the floor below. "Oh, Chef, we should get down there, looks like it's getting pretty busy!"

"I don't know if I can trust you in a room of a bunch of other people right now," Chef responded in a mock-serious tone. He looked down the balcony to see a familiar blonde figure in red, swaying her hair back and forth. "Looks like I just found Blaineley," he said.

Chris frowned. "Oh ha ha, very funny. Is this your attempt to bum me out? I don't care.

C'mon, let's go!"

An overly-enthusiastic Chris bolted out down the stairs into the main dance room, with an unsure Chef following suit behind him.

* * *

"Damn, I am feeeelin' the buuuurn!" Blaineley laughed sluggishly, panting from the excessive dancing she had just done. She wiped her hankerchief against her sweating forehead then walked back to the bar, grabbing a shot of tequila. She ushered to Cody and Lindsay standing near the bar area, "watch this," she said, then placed the shot in her mouth and leaned her head back halfway, taking the shot in with one gulp. "Ta da! See? It's all gone." Blaineley giggled, swinging the empty shot glass between her fingers. Cody shuddered.

Lindsay looked on with concern to an almost-drunk Blainely. "Uh, Blairey, I think that's enough drinking for you." She patted her hand down on Blaineley shoulder, but Blaineley shook it off.

"There's nothing I can't do, and it's BLAINELEY!" she scowled, illustrating Lindsay's inability to correctly remember names. She walked back onto the dance floor, letting herself loose once more as she called back to Lindsay, "and I don't need to you mothering me, I can take care of myself."

After what would happen later that night, apparently not.

* * *

"OH I LOVE THIS SONG!" Chris bellowed, heading for the dance floor as he began to shriek the lyrics to the song, "because when I, arrive, I, I bring the fire!" Chris howled as he moved in ways he couldn't imagine if he were sober. Duncan chuckled to Geoff and DJ, "looks like Chris got drunk," he said.

"I've never seen Chris let his wild side out like this, but, I think I like it!" Geoff exclaimed. The other two nodded in unison.

Duncan looked over to an unassured Chef, who had been watching Chris the entire time. "Did Chris drink too much?" he asked.

Chef nodded. "And I think it's partly my fault, for letting him out of his cage."

Chris danced the night of away, or for whatever would seem like the remainder of the night. Because that would be the last thing he remembered.

* * *

"Hm…?"

Blaineley slowly opened her eyes. Everything seemed fuzzy, but soon came to clear view. She was in a room. A big, white room; on the comfort of a big white bed; covered by a soft blue blanket. She felt warmth in the air, a warmth so incredible she had tried to tug the blanket down her to cool herself, but as soon she did she realized just how bare the air felt of her skin. Verybare. _Naked_ bare.

Blaineley momentarily gained enough consciousness to realize she was not in any place she was familiar with. She sat up to the realization she was in _someone_ else's house, on _someone _else's bed, _naked_.

She felt a shift in the bed. She wasn't the only person on that bed, there was someone else-she looked to her right to see a man; black hair tousled against the pillow. She had been naked in a bed with a man who also was apparently naked-although the sheets covered most his body, she could tell he was. It had soon hit her.

_Oh god…did I…sleep with this guy last night?_

Moreover, the man shifted his head on his other side; facing her. She could now see his face in full view. His wavy black hair. His facial stubble. His chiseled chin. And she recognized him, to her own horror.

Chris McLean. She was in a bed naked with Chris McLean.

_I slept with Chris? Oh my god, oh my god! No!_

Blaineley wanted to scream, but in shock could not find her voice to do so. She desperately went to her thoughts; trying to fish out the last memories she had the night before. All she remembered was dancing. And lights. And loud music. And drinking. _Lots_ of drinking.

_So I got drunk and slept with Chris._

It had to have been her worst nightmare-sleeping with the enemy. Moreso; getting drunk and sleeping with the enemy, while she would normally laugh at such a clichéd concept it was no laughing matter now. She felt powerless; she actually had the audacity to believe she could always control the situations she puts herself in. Apparently not.

"Fuck!" she shrieked, stumbling to climb out of the bed. Apparently it had been enough to disturb Chris, who moaned and sat up in unison to her apparent distress. His eyes sleepily opened. She quickly grabbed the blanket and clutched it against her body. He took a look around the room, then to Blaineley. Then, his eyes widened, lips parted and his face turned white as if he saw a ghost.

"Blaineley! Wha-wha-what are you doin in my-"

"I'd like to know the same thing."

Chris's face turned to real horror at her response. "What the hell happened? Why are you here?"

"Like I said, I don't know. All I remember was last night. And then-this." Blaineley assertively said, the blanket still clutched to her chest. She looked over to see Chris who had sat up in his bed. The blanket was draped down to his waist; him shirtless. She noticed how toned and muscular his upper frame was, more so than his plain shirts let on. Then again, he had never appeared shirtless to her. Until now, where his nice arms and shoulders seemed apparent throughout the musky-smelling white room.

To her dismay, she blushed.

Chris looked defeated; almost embarrassed. "So yeah…I think we did it…."

"Ya think?" she sighed. "Were you drinking too?"

Chris nodded his head. "Yeah, I was.

"That explains everything."

Chris frowned. "Yeah…well anyway, you need to get out."

"That's a little hard right now seeing that I don't have any clothes on, thank you very much."

"Well then put them on and get out."

"But you're here! Go in a different room!"

"I'm not going anywhere because I don't have any clothes on, either. And this is my room, so you'll just have to deal with it."

She frowned. "Fine. But no looking, got it?"

"Fine by me. Just get to it."

* * *

Blaineley half climbed, half stumbled out and onto the floor as she paced around on her knees, trying to find every article of clothing that had belonged to her. Chris, meanwhile, had his eyes trapped shut. He heard nothing but the soft rusting of fabrics on his floor and her breathing, which was almost inaudible to his ears. Suddenly in his own burning curiosity, his left eye peaked open. He saw Blaineley's bare back, her long blonde hair draped against her shoulders as she began to slip her bra on. She was thin, but had a small waist and curves. She had already had her undergarments on while he had been watching her, but for what it was worth, he hated to admit, he _liked_ what he saw.

He never though Blaineley was a bad looking girl.

In fact, he always thought the opposite-she was quite a beautiful girl, but he could never get through to her aggressive superiority complex, her arrogance and dirty tactical game-playing. Quite frankly, there was only room for one person in the game with a mind like that, and that was him.

"You better not be looking," she uttered to him, disrupting his thoughts.

Chris smirked. "I'm not," he said, closing his eye shut once again.

A few moments later, Blainely had told him he was allowed to reopen his eyes. As soon as he did, a well-dressed, red-looking Blaineley came in full view. Her hair and makeup were a bit messy, but she otherwise looked decent. Especially after a drunken one-night stand.

"Chris," she murmured softly, her voice lost within the walls of the wide room. "We really need to talk about this. About what happened…last night."

"Talk about what? We got drunk and had sex. There's nothing to talk about here."

"What do you mean 'nothing to talk about'? Do you understand what just happened here? I don't wanna go home knowing I had a drunken one night stand and not exactly know why. What if someone finds out? Do you know what this could do to our careers?"

"No one's gonna find out. We just move on with our lives and pretend none of this ever happened. Capish?"

Blaineley frowned to him. Somehow, the disappointed expression on her face made him sympathize with her; almost feel bad. He sighed. "Ugh…fine, we'll talk. But uh, first, I need to get some clothes on."

* * *

As Chris began to put on his clothes, Blaineley ventured into the halls of his house. She took notice to two things, how big it was (when he bragged on the show, he was certainly not joking) and how its walls were sprawled with various portaits: pictures of friends (several of him with Chef), pictures of who he thought were his family, and then pictures of him during filming of various Total Drama seasons. Seeing Chris's bright smile; his genuine happiness and care for the individuals in the pictures was an alarming contrast to his deviant and inconsiderate attitude that she had first-handedly witnessed, with memories dating back to him shoving her off a plane. She almost felt unwelcomed in the atmosphere. And at the same time, she felt comforted to know, maybe there was more to Chris then she had initially assumed, kind of like most people believing the very worst of Blaineley herself-even when she felt she had positive traits that almost always go ignored. It almost made her feel curious. What was the real Chris like? Is he anything like his television personality?

_Then again, you did sleep with him, so that's a start_. She wanted to laugh at the thought, but it didn't take.

"So uh…here," she heard a voice behind her in the kitchen; a dressed Chris who had stumbled into the kitchen, pouring two mugs full of coffee and setting them down on the table. She walked in, surprised by his politeness. "Thank you," she replied, sitting down to the table and grabbing the coffee in one hand.

"Uh, yeah, no problem. It's actually yesterday's coffee, hope you don't mind, because I don't."

She actually did mind, seeing as how she didn't like day-old coffee, black nonetheless. But it was his house after all, so she knew she was in no place to throw a fit. She glumly sipped the bland, bitter coffee. She looked over and saw Chris, quickly consuming his own. She sighed. "So yesterday I had a couple glasses of martinis. I thought I could take them all, but…" her voice trailed off, laughing. "…and that's why I'm here."

Chris frowned to her. "You got drunk? Off martinis? They shouldn't even be letting lightweights like you drinking."

"Oh really?" Blaineley said, slightly annoyed. "So what's your story?"

"I had too much vodka. Really! I sometimes kill myself with that stuff."

"Do you think anyone saw?"

"Huh? Oh, I don't know. It was a pretty crowded party, so I don't think everyone noticed."

"Oh, that's so comforting to know that at least not _everyone_ knows about it. Great!" she said sarcastically.

Chris looked to her with a pang of real unhappiness spread across his face. "Well, what kind of answer were you expecting? Maybe someone saw, maybe they didn't. Either way, I don't think anyone would assume we would go and do uh…what we did, if they did, then they would have stopped us, but no one did, so we can safely assume no one really thought we would do what we did."

"Uh…come again?"

"There isn't a soul in the world who thinks we had sex last night! Okay? Now go. You should leave."

"But Chris-"

"What?"

"Did you at least use a condom?"

Chris looked at her in utter terror. "I…I don't think so. Uh-oh. What if you're-"

"I'm not. I was just asking. I'm on birth control."

Chris sighed in relief, and then began to snicker. "Why? Are you banging Josh behind-the-scenes?"

Blaineley looked to him with disgust. "Actually, it's for acne, you nimrod."

"Lightweight."

"Stubble boy."

"Mildred."

Blaineley sighed in defeat. "Okay, we aren't going anywhere with this. So…we pretend none of this ever happened and we move on with our lives, right?"

"Right."

"Perfect. I'll be going, then."

Blaineley got up then walked up to the door. "See you", Chris uttered hesitantly as she opened the door and left. Before she did, she looked up, meeting his eyes one last time, blue orbs with deep earthy ones. And she felt a tingle in her body that she couldn't imagine would ever happen. Not for someone like Chris. It couldn't have been because of Chris. Could it?

And yet, deep down, she still couldn't figure out why she truly didn't feel resentful about anything.

* * *

It was the most bizarre situation he had ever put himself in. Sleeping with Blaineley. I mean, she was attractive, but he had never seen her in an intimate light before now. And when she looked up to him; to meet his eyes, he felt absorbed by her presence, by her mammoth-sized personality that he warped his own with. They would clash, but he secretly liked it. It had never occurred to him before, but what if he had been aware of everything the entire time? That he remembered it happening while it did? That he knew what it was like, having sex with her?

What was it like to kiss her? That is, if he kissed her?

Moreover, why did he want to know so much?

He chuckled to himself. He didn't know how it happened, but somehow…he wouldn't mind if it happened again.

* * *

**Done! I love this pairing. If you do to, write more fanfics about them NAO.**

**Also, I'm thinking of making this a twoshot. What do you think?**


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